Harry Potter and the Luminus Draconis
by Groo
Summary: A fifth year fanfic. Harry, Hermione and Ron become involved in the fate of Dragons throughout the world. Voldemort begins his campaign of horror, but another group may be working against everyone else.
1. Chapter 1 The Holidays

**Harry Potter and the Luminus Draconis**  
(aka Harry Potter and the Light of Dragons)  
  
**Chapter One – The Holidays**  
  
Harry Potter sat at his desk in a small upstairs bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive. Outside, the crack and rolling boom of thunder could be heard. Rain poured down, and the wind howled through the trees outside the room's window. Harry sat at his desk, labouring over a parchment, quill in one hand and the other stroking a white owl, perched on the desk edge.  
  
Harry Potter was, perhaps to some, below average when it came to height. But what he lacked in height and age, he made up for in a world-weariness that had been hard gained. Harry, whilst only almost 15, had seen and experienced pain and terror that most people could not even dream of. For Harry was a wizard, and one who was targeted by the most evil wizard of the times, Voldemort.  
  
Harry scratched his head, wondering how to write what he wanted to write, and then ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. On his forehead, a lightning bolt-shaped scar stood out, previously hidden by his unruly black hair. He peered through his glasses, staring intently at the parchment resting on the table before him.  
  
Harry sighed, and re-read the letter he was writing.  
  
_Dear Sirius,  
  
I'm not sure when you will get this or where you are. I haven't heard from you in weeks, but I needed to tell you that …_  
  
Harry crumpled the parchment, and threw it into the bin, joining an overflowing pile of other similarly crumpled parchments. Sirius meant everything to Harry, being his Godfather and his only family, but he just couldn't put into words what he wanted to say.  
  
Harry sighed. "How do I get myself into these things?" he mumbled out loud to himself. Normally he had no problems writing or talking to Sirius, but since the end of his 4th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he felt walled off and isolated from Sirius, simply because he hadn't heard from him in weeks. After a traumatic incident like the rebirth of Voldemort, he would have expected Sirius to be around and fussing over him endlessly, but since he last saw him in the Infirmary at Hogwarts he hadn't even received an Owl.  
  
A loud crack of lightning outside made Harry jump a little, and he decided to leave the letter to Sirius for the evening, he didn't want to send Hedwig out in this weather anyway, and his time would be more productively spent making a start on his holiday homework.  
  
As Harry started to stand, there was a loud pecking noise at his window. Harry quickly went to the window and opened it, to admit a very wet, bedraggled looking large brown owl. Harry recognised it as a Hogwarts school owl, generally used for official Hogwarts communications, or for students with no access to an owl of their own. The owl extended a claw clutching a bone white envelope.   
  
Harry grabbed the letter (addressed to "Mr H Potter") and opened it, noting that it had a Hogwarts official crest on the back, and pulled out a thick wad of parchment.  
  
_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore   
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc. Chf. Warlock,   
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
  
Dear Mr Potter  
  
We are pleased to inform you that the Hogwarts Prefects have been chosen for this year. The fifth year Hogwarts Prefects for this year will be Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.  
  
Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger have been chosen for a number of reasons. Firstly, Ms. Granger has performed excellently throughout her time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and has an academic record that speaks for itself. Both Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger have also shown themselves as excellent candidates for the responsibility of Prefect through their many adventures and shared experiences with yourself. Finally, whilst you were an excellent candidate, Professor McGonagall and myself decided that Ronald Weasley would ultimately be most like to afford the time for this role, rather than you yourself. Simply put, I will have other things for you to occupy yourself with during the year. I do hope you understand.  
  
Please find attached your list of books required for your fifth year classes.  
  
We look forward to seeing you once school recommences.  
  
Yours truly,  
Professor A. Dumbledore_  
  
Harry grinned, Ron had been made a prefect, and Hermione as well. Harry, whilst slightly disappointed that he had not been made a prefect, felt sure he could cope with it. One thing he hated was being in the spotlight, and that was something that he'd been in for the past four years, ever since Hagrid had given him his first Hogwarts letter. With Ron being prefect instead of him, it was the best thing that could happen. Ron got his chance at the spotlight and Harry got to fade a little more into the background.  
  
_Other things to occupy you. _That sounds both exciting and a bit ominous, coming from Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Harry gave an owl treat to the school owl. "You can stay if you'd like, but you'll need to be quiet." he said to the owl. The owl shook it's head and started for the window, which Harry obligingly opened. The owl flew back out the window, into the thick of the storm, and Harry slammed the window shut behind it, not wanting his entire bedroom filled with water.  
  
As soon as he turned around and headed back to his desk, another tap on the window caught his attention. He quickly opened and closed the window, letting in a small energetic bundle of fluff that turned out to be Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, or 'Pig' for short.   
  
The small, hyper-active owl immediately began to fly around the room at top speed, almost flying into Hedwig, Harry, Harry's trunk, the door, the ceiling and the wall in quick succession.  
  
"Dammit, Pig, come here and give me the letter." Harry jumped and leaped to catch Pig, his seeker skills being tested by the extremely fast and suicidal owl. Finally he caught Pig and wrestled the letter out of his claws.  
  
_Harry  
  
I've been made PREFECT. Mum and Dad can't believe it, they thought they'd have to wait for Ginny for the next Prefect in the family. Percy has already started to spout the rules and regulations necessary for Prefects at me, believing that if he doesn't help me out, I'll embarrass the "Weasley Family Honour and the fine tradition of Griffyndor Prefects" (That's a direct quote).  
  
I'm lucky Hermione was chosen to be a Prefect as well, so I can get her to cover for me if necessary.  
  
Why weren't you made Prefect though? I was sure that you would get it, and so was everyone else. Ginny seems quite upset about it, thinking that you must have turned it down to give to me, but I knew you wouldn't have done something like that.  
  
_ Too right if he wanted to keep Ron as a friend. One thing the Weasley family had, and Ron had in spades, was pride and a determination to never, ever, take charity. The easiest way to get Ron angry would be to give him something that he thought he didn't deserve. But Harry knew Ron deserved being made Prefect.  
  
The truth was, while Harry was glad he wasn't made Prefect (he was sure he'd be terrible at it), he did wonder why he didn't get appointed. And why Ron?  
  
The line from Dumbledore's letter nagged at him. _Other things to occupy you. _What else could be more important than being Prefect? Harry had a suspicion it would be something both interesting and dangerous. Though anything Harry would do would also involve Ron and Hermione. So why did they become Prefects?  
  
_Mum and Dad have asked Dumbledore to let you stay over the holidays but he keeps putting them off. Something about it being safer at your relatives place, and that you might be able to come over later in the holidays.  
  
Hey, you haven't heard the news I bet. I bet you wish you got the Daily Prophet on holidays. You-Know-Who hasn't been heard of, but there have been reports of Death Eaters firing the Dark Mark into the air at public events. No one has been hurt yet, but everyone is starting to get very nervous. People don't even look to see who did it, they just want to get away, so there hasn't been a single person caught for doing it. Even with Fudge trying to cover up, people are beginning to think that something is very wrong. Dad's been working with Dumbledore, but won't say anything about it, just that he's doing what he can.  
  
And there have been reports of Dark Wizards in other countries, Germany, France, America, Canada, and someplace called Australia. Ginny said it's on the opposite side of the world, and peopled by convicts. I think she's putting me on cause she was grinning when she said it.  
  
Write back soon, and make sure you tell me if the muggles are treating you well. Otherwise, Fred and George have already said they'll break you out again, even if it gets them in trouble from Mum. They've been talking about you a lot these holidays. Did you do or say something to them?  
  
Ron_  
  
Damn, he couldn't go to the Burrow yet. Harry had been hoping that he could get there as soon as possible, and escape Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and especially Dudley.   
  
Life hadn't improved at the Dursley's these holidays. Whilst he was still in his room, and not in the closet under the stairs, he at least had his homework and supplies in his room. He still had to cook breakfast and a great deal of chores around the house, all of this while Dudley tried to make his life hell.  
  
Dudley, still looking like a Sperm Whale crammed into clothes, regardless of his school, Smeltings, attempting to reduce his weight, had finally gotten over his fear of Harry and his magic. Magic that Harry couldn't use during the holidays, not even to protect himself from Dudley. Harry had resorted to his trusty trick of running or hiding from Dudley and his friends. Dudley's friends had all grown over the past couple of years, and rather than beefing up like Dudley, they had all put on muscles and bad attitudes. Unfortunately, one of their favourite pastimes was still "Harry Bashing", though now these thugs could go Harry some damage.   
  
So once Harry had finished fixing breakfast, he would do the numerous chores his relatives made him do. In return he would get a meagre amount of food each day, and the smallest room in the house to sleep in. Eventually, Harry would complete his housework and abandon the house and spend some time in the park or the nearby public library.  
  
Generally, Harry would take some paper and a pen and work on some of his holiday homework. But sometimes he just laid back and enjoyed the peace and quiet in the fresh air and tried to forget the terrible nightmares and horrible visions he saw when he closed his eyes.  
  
It had been three weeks since Harry had started his holidays and a further three weeks since the terrifying events at the end of the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Harry had been captured and forced into giving blood for a hideous dark ritual that ultimately gave life back to the restless spirit of Voldemort. Voldemort was the most feared dark wizard of modern times, so feared that people couldn't even say his name, referring to him as You-Know-Who. Harry had barely escaped with his life, whilst his schoolmate, and fellow Hogwarts Champion in the tournament was not as lucky. Cedric had been killed simply because he was unlucky enough to be with Harry, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.  
  
**_"Kill the Spare."_** Those words haunted Harry's dreams and Harry had, after much soul searching, forced himself to come to grips with Cedric's death. It wasn't his fault. He, and Cedric, were just pawns in a game they hadn't even known about until they had appeared in a graveyard, clutching the Tri-Wizard Tournament Cup. The cup had turned out to be a portkey. Harry and Cedric had fallen into a trap, specifically designed to use Harry, unwillingly, in the resurrection of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Cedric, however, was not necessary and had been killed.  
  
Harry knew that Cedric's death was to be firmly placed at the feet of Voldemort, and rather than feel guilty (as he had for a number of weeks afterwards), Harry had finally begun to come to terms with his grief and put the guilt behind him.  
  
Rather than be upset and distressed about it, Harry felt that the terrifying and hideous experience fuelled in him a desire to be able to protect those around him, to stop something like this from ever happening again. He knew he had never felt as helpless as when Cedric was killed, and that he could do nothing about it. Whether Harry would need to face something like this again, he could only guess. But deep within him, Harry knew the day would come again when he faced _Lord _Voldemort and when that came, he would need to best him to ensure his friends and loved ones were safe.  
  
When Harry returned during the late afternoon each day, he would do the washing up, bring in the washing, make dessert and other chores before he would get his own meagre dinner. Rather than complain, though, Harry would enthusiastically eat his dinner and get back to his room as quickly as possible.   
  
His homework awaited and he vowed that he would work harder to learn, learn to protect himself and his friends, regardless of what he had to do.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
Two weeks later, Harry sighed as he put the finishing touches on his Potions assignment (a fiendishly hard assignment of the fundamentals and basics of creation potions, potions that can be used to create things as simple as a plant, or as hard as inanimate object like a chair).  
  
With still 3 weeks of holidays left, Harry had nothing to do. He had finished all his homework, with weeks to spare. He had also re-read all his school textbooks numerous times, and revised all the simple charms and spells he had learnt over the past 4 years. With little to do except study and work around the house, he had discovered that, without any interruptions, he wasn't too bad at the theory of magic. After all, he'd had plenty of opportunities for the practice of magic (especially in extreme situations) over the past 4 years.  
  
A rumble of feet pounding up the stairs signalled the arrival of Dudley, home from his latest trip to the movies.   
  
"You're in trouble now, Potter." came Dudley's voice followed by the sound of a door slamming.  
  
Harry sighed and slowly got to his feet and started downstairs, wondering what he could possibly have done this time to get the Dursleys upset at him.  
  
Upon entering the kitchen, he was startled to find his Aunt and Uncle clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet.  
  
"Umm ... I .." was all Harry got out before the inevitable explosion.  
  
"What is the meaning of this ... this ... this filth? How dare you have something like this ... newspaper" Uncle Vernon was able to imbue a level of disgust in his voice, previously only heard for mud and Harry before, "delivered to this house?"  
  
"Where was it?" Harry asked timidly.  
  
"I'll tell you, right in plain view on our doorstep. Right where the neighbours can see this ... this ... MAGICAL!" Uncle Vernon's voice dropped to a whisper", "newspaper." Harry could see the front-page picture of a dragon swooping around in a cloudless sky.  
  
"I don't know. I don't get it, but maybe someone- ..."  
  
"We shelter you, and cover up for your abomination, your freakishness, and this is how you repay us? By trying to display this for any of the neighbours to see." Aunt Petunia had finally gotten into the fray.  
  
"I DIDN'T DO IT." Harry yelled.  
  
His aunt and uncle just looked at him with their disgust clearly written on their faces.  
  
  
  
"Just get back upstairs and don't bother coming down for dinner tonight." Uncle Vernon spat as he threw the newspaper at Harry. Harry quickly caught it and ran back upstairs, not particularly worried as he'd had a pretty decent lunch when no one was home.  
  
As Harry entered his room, he unfolded the newspaper and looked at the headline.  
  
**_DRAGON MIGRATION_**, the headline screamed.  
  
_Romania, home of the largest Dragon sanctuary, stands silent. The constant flap of wings, the crackle of fire being breathed, the roar of the dragons. All absent.  
  
On Saturday, the Romanian Dragon Rangers awoke to this unexpected silence. Upon further investigation, not a single dragon was to be found within the confines of the Sanctuary.  
  
As all readers would be aware, the Sanctuary, one of a number throughout the world, employs various charms and magical barriers to prevent dragons from leaving their territory within the Sanctuary, and there has not been a serious incident in over 50 years. However, with a full scale Dragon migration, the barriers could not hold, and broke apart as over 200 dragons left the area at the same time.  
  
It has been speculated that with the number of dragons hitting the boundary spells at the same time, the spells overloaded, rather than sound warning signals as they are designed to do.  
  
_ Harry thought back briefly to the dragon he faced in the First Task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. There was no way he'd want to be anywhere near 200 dragons, not for anything.  
  
_Bill Weasley (26), an employee at the Dragon Sanctuary, stated "I've never seen anything live this. Generally Dragons would rather fight each other than cooperate, a migration of 200 Dragons at once, is unprecedented."  
  
Dragon researchers across the world have expressed a desire to understand what would set off a Dragon migration like this. Climate, social, magic or some other reason.  
  
Research will continue into this phenomenon, and readers are advised to contact authorities immediately if they spot any dragon activity in their vicinity.  
  
_ Harry read through the rest of the paper, but nothing else caught his eye. He wandered a little at who would have left the paper at the front of his house, and why. Could someone believe the newspaper could tell Harry something? Interesting as some of the news was (Quidditch Star fined for Snitch tampering, Ministry of Magic launches new research programs, Nine disappear from Potentia Cognosco Universitas – England campus) he couldn't find anything that would be strange or interesting enough so that one of his friends would send the paper to him. Especially odd was the fact that it was on the front doorstep, and hadn't been delivered to him personally.  
  
As Harry re-read the newspaper, he thought about the dragon migration. It seemed the only story of consequence, but he didn't understand what this would have to do with him. Surely it was just one of those things. Not even Voldemort could do something like that. Could he?  
  
The more Harry thought about it, the more he wondered if Voldemort had something to do with the Dragon migration. Whilst it was incredibly hard to stun a dragon, could it be easier to manipulate or control a dragon? Would the Imperius curse work on a dragon?  
  
Harry shook his head. It was absurd that even Voldemort could do something like that. And there wasn't anything he could do about it anyway.  
  
Harry tossed the newspaper onto his desk and sat down on his bed, pulled a stack of books onto the bed with him and settled down to do some more revision.  
  
=================================================================================  
  
Ronald Weasley, youngest male of the Weasley family, frowned, deep in thought. It was Harry's birthday coming up soon and he still had to think of a present.   
  
Generally Ron and Harry gave each other Quidditch related presents, but Ron really wanted to get something special this year. Harry had been through a lot, and Ron still felt bad about the argument that he and Harry had had when Ron had thought Harry had snuck his name into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. After Ron had seen what Harry went through in the First Task, however, he knew that not even Harry would have been that crazy.  
  
Ron felt much worse now that he had been made Prefect, when everyone he knew was sure Harry would be appointed. What did he have that Harry didn't? He felt like he had stolen it off his friend, even though Harry had written and congratulated him and told him he deserved and that he, Harry, didn't want to be Prefect in the least.  
  
Ron opened the "Magical Men's Gift Emporium" owl order catalogue.  
  
_Enchanted Nose Hair Clippers – No nose hair for 60 days or your galleons back  
Mervyn Muggles Magical Razor – you won't feel a thing  
Instant Facial Hair in just 1 minute  
  
_ Rubbish. Ron flicked through the catalogue.  
  
_The Original, and Best, Lava Lamp. With REAL lava.  
The unbreakable, unsolvable Wizards Rubik's Cube_  
  
Ron sighed and threw the catalogue at his sister. They were both sitting in the lounge room of the family house, The Burrow. Ginny was surrounded by piles of catalogues, all with fabulous moving pictures, bright flashing headlines, and some even had advertising jingles coming from them.  
  
"Ginny, tell me you've found something."  
  
Ginny Weasley poked her head up from the catalogue she had been reading and blushed slightly. "Nothing you'd want to give him, Ron."  
  
Ron grinned. "So something nice and … **ROMANTIC** …. Oooooh, that's sooooo sweet, Ginny. Is it flowers charmed to never die, a locket with your picture in it that glows when you think of him or something like that?"  
  
Ginny blushed redder, her entire face matching her shoulder length red hair.  
  
"Nothing like that Ron, but just some … nice stuff that I'd like to … give … him." Ginny smiled tentatively, her eyes dreamy.  
  
Ron sighed, Ginny would be out of it for a couple of minutes, off in her little fantasy world. It was almost funny, except that it was his sister mooning over his best friend. Ron, and his brothers, were all very protective of their sister. While they all thought of Harry as part of the family, it still worried them that Ginny was so infatuated with him. And that one day, Harry might actually see her as something other than an embarrassment.  
  
Ron picked up another catalogue from the stack in the middle of the room . "I still can't believe that Hermione hasn't replied to any of the owls I sent. If anyone would want to help us pick something absolutely fabulous for Harry, I thought it would have been her." Ron could hear the faint bitterness in his words.  
  
His thoughts flashed back to the last time he had seen Harry and Hermione, at the end of term.  
  
_Mum was close by Harry. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear.  
  
"See you. Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.  
  
"Bye, Harry!" said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
Ron couldn't believe his eyes, Harry was blushing a little, but Hermione just seemed to positively glow as she continued walking.  
  
George muttered something to Harry, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.  
  
Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon, and followed him silently from the station.  
  
_ Harry and Hermione. How could he have guessed that Harry would be the one to gain Hermione's affections. He'd thought she'd become attached to Viktor, but …  
  
Just thinking of Hermione made Ron angry, and confused, all at once. How could she do this to him? Why would she do this to him? What was she doing to him? Ron didn't know what he felt, except that he felt like he would explode when he saw Hermione kissing Harry, or dancing with Viktor. Ron pushed those thoughts away, he wasn't going to spend another afternoon mulling over Hermione today.  
  
"What about tickets to see a league Quidditch game?" Ron said to Ginny, who shrugged.  
  
"It's alright I guess, but it's not that super-duper type of present you said you wanted to get Harry."  
  
Ginny was right, but it had seemed like an easy option.  
  
"Hey, here's something for you, Ron. How about this?" Ginny held out a catalogue full of what looked like smooth, oval gems of different colours.  
  
"What are they, Ginny?" Ron asked, taking the catalogue.  
  
"They're specialis stones."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Ginny sighed. "You could just read the catalogue, it explains what they are in there."  
  
Ron looked down at the page.  
  
_**SPECIALIS STONES**  
  
Imagine a world where you could change your hair colour without a wand, summon objects to your hand, look at images without a picture frame or see in the dark. All these things, and more are available as ** specialis stones.**  
  
A Specialis stone is a rare gemstone, individually selected, and imbued with very powerful magic spells. It is magically grafted to your hand, and a simple touch of the stone with your finger activates the magic.  
  
These stones are 100% guaranteed to last for 2 years, replacement at no cost to the purchaser. Each comes with a full instruction manual, instructions as to attaching and removing the stone and a full money back guarantee if you are not completely happy with how it works._  
  
"Sounds ok, Ginny, but I don't think Harry really want to change his hair colour."  
  
Ginny frowned. "Read the various types, Ron."  
  
_Infra-red vision  
Darkened vision (similar to muggle sunglasses)  
Eye colour change (specify colour)  
Hair Colour change (specify colour and duration)  
Body Part invisibility (specify body part – NOTE very short term spell)  
Invisibility to cameras  
Water Resistance  
Radius Laughing spell  
  
_ "Wait a minute, invisible to cameras? Harry would love this camera one, especially after all the problems he had with reporters and newspapers last year. But LOOK AT THOSE PRICES."  
  
Ginny sighed, "Yeah, I know. Scratch that idea."  
  
As Ginny and Ron began to flick through more catalogues, an explosion rent the air. This was immediately followed by the voice of Mrs Weasley . "Fred and George Weasley, get down here IMMEDIATELY!"  
  
"I wonder what one that was." Ginny asked, curiosity painted all over her face.  
  
"I wouldn't ask, Gin, or you'll end up finding out the hard way." Ron replied, keeping a close eye on the kitchen from which both explosion and cry had emanated from.  
  
Molly Weasley suddenly appeared in the kitchen door, looking around, eyes sharp and mouth grim.  
  
"Ron, Ginny. Have you seen either Fred or George? They've done it this time, I'm going to hex them so badly that they'll give up this joke shop idea."  
  
The effect was completely spoiled by the bunches of feathers sprouting out of both hands.  
  
Ron and Ginny suppressed laughs, and both shook their heads.  
  
Molly glanced around again, and headed for the stairs.  
  
"That was the Feather Duster hands soda." Ron grinned. "They've been testing that on me all holidays, I've been scared of taking a drink for the last 3 weeks."  
  
Ginny giggled. "I'm just glad they seem to be concentrating on you this summer, Ron. I've got so much homework, I don't think I could do it all if I kept getting my hands turned into feathers all the time."  
  
"Ah, it's alright, the feathers come right off in about 10 minutes … and it'll give Mum some time to do some dusting in their room." Both Ron and Ginny burst into laughter at the thought of their Mum braving the twin's room to dust. Likely she'd come out as a canary, with a foot long purple tongue, or who knows what else.  
  
After a good, long laugh, they both went back to the catalogues, determined to find the perfect presents for Harry Potter.  
  
=================================================================================  
  
Hermione breathed in the fresh air, glancing at the beautiful Bulgarian scenery before her. She stood at the top of a tall turret attached to a smallish castle, high in the Bulgarian mountains.  
  
The view from here was amazing, looking out over valleys, forests and even the twinkling lights of a muggle town at night, and Hermione loved to sit and look whilst doing her homework, or just thinking.  
  
As usual when she looked across the wide-open spaces, she thought of Ron and Harry and how much they would love it here. The flying here was terrific, Viktor said, and she knew that both Ron and Harry would also enjoy looking through the castle and it's myriad ancient artefacts.  
  
Ron and Harry seemed to be dominating her thoughts lately, and Hermione, was someone who had to reason out the whys and wherefores of everything, even her own behaviour at times. She had spent many long hours wondering why she constantly thought about them. Lately, it seemed that both Ron and Harry had begun to creep into her dreams as well, where previously only Viktor (and for a short period, Professor Lockhart) had dwelt. Especially Ron, though she didn't even think she liked him like that. He was so aggravating, and frustrating, and he didn't take his studying seriously, and he acted so childish ….. and he was kind of cute, and a good friend. But she also thought that about Harry, except he wasn't childish, he was so determined about some things, it was almost scary, but amazing at the same time, and he had a boyish kind of charm.  
  
Hermione sighed. It was all too confusing to think about and she was here to enjoy the view and finish her Arthimancy homework.  
  
As she sat and stared out over the forests, semi-thinking about her homework, she watched the lazy spirals of a couple of birds, far away, high above the forest floor.   
  
"How easy would it be to be a bird and fly away from everything?" Hermione muttered to herself. She understood the temptation of being an animagi and being able to escape from the human world in an animal form. She wondered if she should ask Professor McGonagall about if she could become one when she went back to school.  
  
The birds grew closer and she could see that they were bigger than she thought. Whilst she couldn't make out any details, she noticed they seemed to have large wings, and a strange colour. Funny, she couldn't remember having seen any bronze birds around before.  
  
Hermione picked up her wand, and aiming at her eyes, said "_macto_". Suddenly she could see further, miles and miles into the distance. Swinging around, she took a closer look at the birds.  
  
As she looked, she gasped suddenly. That wasn't a bird, that was a dragon! Two huge bronze dragons, further away than she expected due to their size (and the fact she thought they were birds), were flying this way.  
  
"_finite incanteum._" Hermione ended the spell and spun to run downstairs and alert someone. As she turned, a dark figure stepped onto the turret and with a single practised flick of a wand, "_stupefy_", she felt the magic hit her and turn her view of the world to a fuzzy black and white.  
  
With everything seeming to be in slow motion, Hermione felt her wand fall out of her hand, her eyes begin to close and her legs crumple. As she fell to the ground, her final thoughts were of Ron and Harry and how she would miss them.  
  
=================================================================================  
  



	2. Chapter 2 Attack

**Harry Potter and the Luminus Draconis**  
(aka Harry Potter and the Light of Dragons)  
  
**Chapter Two - Attack**   
  
_The dream started as dreams sometimes do. A montage of images. A house, a cavern, a dragon, a glowing crystal sphere, an ocean, a mountain. Finally, a single image remained. A castle, more like a fortress, on a cliffside above raging waves. Dark clouds shrouded a night sky, obscuring the moon and stars from the dreamers view.   
  
A single illuminated window in the fortress. The view point of the dreamer moved closer and closer, until the window filled the vision. Bars covered the window, and hid the room, inside from view. Whilst light streamed out of the window, the viewer couldn't see in.   
  
The view point continued to move, as in the way of dreams, and the bars and window were passed through, showing the room beyond. A large stone room, filled with books and magical objects. An aura of evil, enough to make the bravest heart shake, seemed to cover the room, a darkness seeming to seep from the object and books in the room. A room full of evil.   
  
Inside, a tall figure stood. Waiting. Skeletally thin in robes of pure black, pale, almost bone white skin, with scarlet eyes. The dreamer knew this person. Lord Voldemort. He Who Must Not Be Named.   
  
The door to the room opened, and a short, balding man entered. His hair was greying, and his small eyes seemed on the point of watering, but the viewer knew that this man, as well, was dangerous. From the sleeve of his right arm, a silver hand was glimpsed. Wormtail. This man had betrayed many to serve his master. As soon as he had entered the room, the door was closed, and Wormtail dropped to his knees in front of his Master.   
  
"Report." Voldemorts whispered voice echoed through the room.   
  
"Master, we have begun bringing back all the lower echelons of the Death Eaters. Many of them had pretended to go back to the side of Good, but they have been very quick indeed to come back into the fold." Wormtail cringed as he spoke, obviously fearful of his masters reaction.   
  
Voldemort snarled. "How can they have come back so soon, after being so quick to abandon me? I fear that we will have traitors and spies amongst us. We will need to ensure that we find the spies and make very public spectacles of their deaths."   
  
Wormtail muttered his agreement, eyes flicking towards the doorway.   
  
"And the other? Have you found Potter?" Voldemort whispered, almost seeming to caress the name.   
  
"My Lord, we have located his general location, but ... he is protected. Wards and protectors. And other things. He is with his blood kin, and Dumbledore has used this in the protection of boy."   
  
Voldemort hissed. "And your plans to get to the boy? Have you made any, Wormtail? Or should I ask Lucius to assist you?"   
  
Wormtail cringed at the mention of the name of Lucius Malfoy.   
  
"My Lord, I will find a way to get to the boy. I have a number of means that we could gain access, and I have a special surprise for the boy when we get through the wards."   
  
"I don't need to remind you of the price of failure, do I, Wormtail?" Voldemort, a cruel smile on his face, glanced at a small object lying on a nearby shelf. A circular piece of metal, about the size of a hand and covered with thin, long spikes on one side. Voldemort obviously had fond memories of this object, but as Wormtails eyes flicked onto the object, he almost collapsed in fear.   
  
"No, my lord. No .. No … I will not fail you." Wormtail babbled as he cowered on the floor.   
  
Voldemort smiled. And waved his hand in a dismissal of Wormtail.   
  
As Wormtail started to stand again, the dreamer felt the point of view shift, and then recede. The castle fell away, and the greyness of wakefulness replaced it. Finally, the dream ended.   
_   
=================================================================================  
  
Harry rolled over, pulling the blankets up over his head.   
  
"Go 'way." he mumbled from under the covers.   
  
The tawney, brown owl hooted again. It was perched on the windowsill, feathers rustling in the breeze coming through the open window. In its claws was a small package.   
  
Harry mumbled something else, indecipherable due to the pillow wrapped around his head.   
  
The owl hooted once more, and then dropped the package on the desk and flew out the window.   
  
Harry groaned, and sat up in his bed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. He looked over at the desk and the package, and sighed. It was 3:00 in the morning, and with a cold wind outside, his small bedroom was like ice. There was no way he really wanted to leave his nice warm bed, even for a mysterious package sent in the middle of the night.   
  
In his sleepy state of mind, Harry racked his brain for any possible solution to the dilemma. How to get the package andstay in bed. Finally, his brain produced a solution. Wandless magic, maybe that was the key… He'd read about wandless magic in a few of his books, books such as "Recent and Relevant Magical History of the 20th Century" and "Charms and their Application in the real world" to name a couple. He'd seen Professor Dumbledore perform wandless magic all the time. Maybe it was something he could do.   
  
Harry sat up straighter in his bed, his eyes narrowing in concentration, focusing his entire mind on moving the package onto the bed. His entire world became the parcel, and that it would move to the bed.   
  
The parcel gave a little hop on the desk, and then didn't stir.   
  
Practice was obviously the key in this. Harry smiled to himself, slightly encouraged by the slight movement of the package.   
  
With a grumble and a very large shiver, Harry pulled off the blankets and got out of bed, moving over to the desk in the dim light, and picking up the package. He switched on the desk lamp (the cover all cracked and stained) and looked at the tiny scribbled writing.   
  
_To The Boy Who Lived_   
  
The handwriting didn't look familiar, and Harry thought nothing more of it until he opened the box. Inside was a lock of curly brown hair, and a shiny, silver Hogwarts Prefect badge. Harry knew immediately whose hair it was. Hermione.   
  
Gently, Harry picked the lock of hair out of the box. Beneath it was a small piece of paper.   
  
_Know that I can reach all those that care about you, all those you care about. This is a small demonstration of my power. The mudblood shall be returned, but do not interfere again with me, or she and the others you care about, will suffer the consequences._   
  
There was no signature, but Harry knew that only Voldemort would do something like this. Voldemort had Hermione. VOLDEMORT HAD HERMIONE.   
  
Harry's vision clouded over in rage, he could hear a loud roaring in his ears. Faintly he could hear breaking and shattering around him.   
  
Thoughts of Hermione ran through his head. Hermione looking for Neville's toad on the Hogwarts express, Hermione studying in the library, Hermione and Ron and Harry together in the Gryffindor common room.   
  
Harry almost burnt with rage at the thought of Hermione being abducted by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. How **DARE** they?   
  
With a deep breath, Harry forced himself to calm down and actually try and think. He looked around himself, at the wreckage of his room.   
  
All the lights had been destroyed, with glass everywhere. The window had been blown outwards, frame and all, and his bed looked like someone had picked it up and thrown it repeatedly against a wall.   
  
Harry's eye's grew wide, realising he must have done this in his uncontrollable anger, realising how great his rage must be to cause destruction like this.   
  
Quickly, Harry snatched up a piece of Parchment (still in one piece thankfully) and quill and scribbled a quick message.   
  
_Professor Dumbledore,   
  
I just received a note saying that Hermione has been taken by the Death Eaters, and a lock of her hair was also included. Can you tell me if she's ok? Is there anything I can do?   
  
Harry_   
  
Harry quickly gave the note to Hedwig (who was looking mightily affronted as she emerged from a bent and battered cage) after scribbling Professor Dumbledore's name on the outside of the note. Hedwig gave Harry a reproachful look and flew out the window and into the night.   
  
Harry sat down on the floor, carefully brushing any broken glass out of his way. There would be hell to pay tomorrow morning when the Dursley's saw the room. He'd be lucky if he was sent back to the cupboard under the stairs. Likely they'd either put him in the garage, or toss him out on the street. Funny, he thought they'd have come in by now to investigate the noise.   
  
As Harry sat, thinking about Hermione, he heard a noise outside his door. Harry grimaced, waiting for the inevitable tirade from his Uncle and Aunt about the room, about him using magic, about anything they could think of.   
  
The door exploded inwards, showering Harry with pieces of broken wood. As Harry rolled and leaped for his wand resting on the floor near the remains of his desk, a fireball the size of a basketball burst into the room and exploded into the wall. Pieces of plaster and wood blew everywhere, as suddenly half the outside wall of Harry's room was gone.   
  
His hand picking up his wand, Harry jumped to his feet. "_petrificus totalus,_" Harry shouted, magic bursting from his wand and out through the broken door. Not staying still, Harry leaped to the other side of the room, just in time as a bolt of pure energy (could it have been a lightning bolt or was it something else Harry wondered) was fired at where he had just been.   
  
Harry was totally outclassed by an opponent who was definitely looking to kill Harry as quickly and messily as possible. His only option was escape, regardless of how cowardly he thought it was. There was no chance of getting past whoever was attacking him, so he'd have to go out through the window. Looking around, Harry was surprised to see just how much of the wall had been destroyed by the spells cast by the mysterious assailant.   
  
Harry fired off three spells almost simultaneously, mind focused purely on escape. A jelly legs spell and a full body bind spell through the door to distract his attacker, and a summon spell bought his broomstick to his hand. Throwing his leg over it, he flew directly for the massive hole in the wall.   
  
"_Avada Kedavra!"_   
  
Harry threw his broomstick upwards as sharply as he could, putting every ounce of speed he could into it. The incredible force as he accelerated almost made him blackout, but it was worth it as he half saw, half felt, the spell miss his broomstick by mere centimetres as he sped off into the night, aiming high above the trees.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
The dark cloaked figure stepped into the wreckage of Harry's room. The occasional spell was cast, moving large pieces of wood and plaster around, as the figure searched the room for something.   
  
Finally, the figure bent down in front of the largest pile of rubble and retrieved something small and shiny.   
  
With a small 'pop' the figure vanished.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
Harry flew high into the night sky, urging the broomstick on as fast as he could. He wasn't going in any particular direction, but simply fled the vicious attack. The cold night air whipped the loose sleeves and pants of his pyjamas as he bent low on his broomstick, looking back for any pursuers or another attack.   
  
As Harry fled, he finally began to think a little more rationally about the attack, and realised he had obviously left his attacker behind. He was sure that there had been only one attacker, otherwise they would have definitely overpowered him, or likely attacked him as soon as he tried to flee.   
  
Harry gradually angled the broomstick down towards the ground, and eased off the speed. He was over a residential area, with house lights and streetlights speeding by underneath him. Carefully looking around, Harry landed in a small, dark street.   
  
Once his feet had touched the ground, Harry jumped off his broomstick and dragged it into the shadows underneath a large tree. Panting loudly, and trembling, Harry half collapsed, half sat down on the pavement beneath the tree.   
  
Who had attacked him? Why? And most importantly, what about the defences and protection that he was supposedly surrounded by? That was the only reason why he went back each year at the end of the school term, but someone had been able to attack and almost kill him. How could they have breached those protections without some kind of warning, someone coming to help Harry?   
  
Harry wiped his hand across his forehead, realising that sweat was streaming down him. He felt hot and cold at the same time; he still felt his heart beating at a million beats a minute.   
  
With a deep breath, Harry forced himself to look around and check out where he was stranded.   
  
The small dark street seemed very long, almost an alley. It seemed that houses only backed onto this street with back fences creating the alleyway, so there were no streetlights. Only trees lined the street, with moonlight casting shadows at strange angles. A couple of gates into various residences were in Harry's line of sight, but they would most likely be locked.   
  
What to do now? Harry could definitely claim that using his broomstick to escape didn't violate the underage wizarding laws, but now he was out of immediate danger, he probably wouldn't be allowed to use magic (or his broomstick) again.   
  
Hailing the Knight Bus was an option, but it might just alert whoever was looking to kill him. Surely that would be the obvious escape route, and who knew if the mysterious assailant was working alone. Maybe the best option was to head for London and find his way to the Leaky Cauldron. From there he might be able to floo to the Weasley's or Hogwarts or something. Surely he would even be safer in Diagon Alley than standing in the shadows of an alley in the muggle world, unable to use magic.   
  
With a grimace, Harry wondered how he would hitch a ride to London in his pyjamas.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
Morning dawned on a very tired Harry trudging alone a small road, winding through some fields, far from the nearest muggle town. His feet on autopilot, he hadn't even noticed the scenery changing, simply concentrating on moving one foot after the other. The dusty road seemed to stretch on forever, disappearing off in the distance amongst fields of green grass and tall trees.   
  
Harry's eyes kept trying to close on him, no matter how hard he tried to keep them focussed on the road in front of him. As they drifted closed, he would stumble, bringing him back to full wakefulness for another couple of minutes.   
  
With his broomstick over his shoulder, and wearing oversized flannel pyjamas, he definitely looked very strange and out of place. Harry was very glad that he hadn't seen anyone while he'd been walking, he looked like a clean Victorian era chimney sweep.   
  
As Harry's eyes drifted closed again, he stumbled hard against a large stone, gashing his toe and foot rather badly.   
  
"Dammit!" Harry could have screamed in frustration. He was tired, angry and hungry. His feet hurt and it had been at least an hour since he last stopped for a rest. With a grimace, he stumbled over to the side of the road, and sat in the shade below a tall tree.   
  
Bending over to look at his foot, Harry was surprised at just how much blood seemed to be pouring out of his foot.   
  
Should he risk performing a simple healing charm, or should he just bandage it with something and hope it's ok? The Underage Magic law was really the only reason why Harry hadn't performed any magic at all this morning, and finally, in his frustration, tired at being exhausted and dirty, Harry decided he was going to take the risk, and if he got an owl delivering a warning, at least he could use it to tell someone where he was and what had happened to him that night.   
  
Pulling his wand out from the waistband of his pyjamas, Harry performed the simple "_medicor_" charm, and watched as the cuts on his toes and foot slowly closed up. It felt very strange, Harry decided, having the skin essentially growing back into place at an accelerated rate. Very ticklish.   
  
Once the skin had healed, deciding that now would be a good time for a quick break, Harry walked over to some nearby bushes. They kind of looked like some pictures of blueberry bushes he had seen, and as he was getting very hungry, anything he could find to eat would hopefully help keep him going. Squatting down behind the bushes, out of sight of the road, he began to look for any edible berries.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
In a dim, dark stone chamber, two figures stared intently at a map resting on the marble table before them. The room was huge and lit only by a large flickering flame of light magically hanging near the entrance, and a number of small magical balls of light sitting on the table. The polished stone floor had a huge engraving of a stylised teardrop near the entrance, two thick metal doors, an engraving that someone entering the room would walk over and definitely notice. The teardrop looked like an endless pool of water that had been shaped, though at second glance, even though the water seemed to move and ripple, the teardrop itself did not move and was completely solid.   
  
A single point of light flashed on the map, and the figures bent over it quickly, peering intently. A single muttered word and the map grew larger on the table, showing an exact position of where the flaring point of light had appeared, and was now fading.   
  
"Potter has revealed himself." The voice was harsh, impatient and deep. The words literally dripped with malice and hatred.   
  
The second figure spoke in a soft, echoing whisper. "Send the Hunter to deal with the boy. This time, use the Hounds to ensure there are no mistakes. Even Potter …" the second voice paused momentarily as if considering, "even the _GREAT_ Harry Potter cannot stand against them. Tell the Hunter to return once he has loosed the hounds. There is no reason to worry if the Hounds fail, as our plan is still running smoothly, and one way or another, Potter will fall into our hands. And then, he will SUFFER."   
  
"Your will, my Master." The first figure bowed slightly and strode towards the entrance.   
  
The second figure leaned forward, gaze focused on the sparkling silver Hogwarts Prefect badge in the centre of the table.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
The sharp thorn pierced his finger, and Harry bit back a yell. So far he hadn't found any edible berries and had pricked most of his fingers trying to move the branches..   
  
A sudden noise on the road got Harry's attention, simply because it was like nothing he had heard before, either in the muggle or magic world. It sounded like an echo of a door opening, but with something different about it.   
  
Harry stayed low, the recent attack on his very fresh in his mind, and moved a number of branches out of the way so he could see the road. What he saw didn't make any sense to him.   
  
A single flame burned bright and high on the road with nothing appearing to fuel it. It was obviously a magic fire, but Harry couldn't see anyone who could have cast the spell. And why have a single flame burning on a road? It didn't make sense.   
  
Suddenly the flame moved, and Harry again looked around for whoever was casting the spell. Still no-one in sight. Something was definitely up, and Harry wasn't going to budge until he knew whether it was a friend or foe that was casting the spells in his vicinity.   
  
The flame moved in a straight line for about a metre from it's starting point, leaving a straight line of fire where it travelled. Once it had moved about a metre, it stopped, and then moved again, this time straight up into the air, again leaving a trail of flame behind it. This continued as it quickly made a rectangle of flame, standing in the air.   
  
Harry had never seen anything like it in his life. And why would someone do something like this? There didn't seem to be any rational …   
  
Harry's train of though was interrupted as suddenly a glowing, rippling light appeared between the lines of fire. It was almost like a sheet of liquid light. From this light, emerged a man. The man was covered from head to toe in an enormous black cloak, covering his face and all his extremities. Only by the way he moved Harry knew that it was a man. It was a very purposeful stride, almost arrogant in the way he moved. No woman could move like that.   
  
Harry's scar twinged a little, as it sometimes did, as he stared at this man and the glowing .. gateway .. portal … doorway .. whatever it was. Harry decided that it must be some kind of doorway, a magical means of transport that he had never heard about   
  
The man was now clear of the gateway and a hand emerged from under the cloak, holding a wand. A few muttered words, no matter how Harry strained he couldn't quite catch them, and the man cast a glowing mist out of his wand. The mist hung in the air for a moment, and then dropped to the ground in two separate areas. The mist swirled, as if a strong wind was blowing them, and took on the forms of two huge dogs. Slowly, colour seeped into the forms until finally, the two dogs were fully fleshed and salivating, as if eager to do their summoners bidding.   
  
Harry had no illusions that he had seen anything except some very advanced magic. He had never heard rumours of any of the spells this wizard seemed to be casting, and it worried Harry as this was obviously someone who would be working for Voldemort. Anyone who dressed like that, arrived in such a strange way, must have something to hide, and the obvious thing was being a Death Eater.   
  
The figure clicked his fingers, and the dogs looked attentively at him.   
  
"Potter." The man said in a voice filled with anger.   
  
Immediately, the dogs started to sniff around. Harry felt panic start to set in. He couldn't stand against these two dogs and the wizard at the same time. However, the wizard, after a short time watching the dogs sniff, strode back into the doorway, which promptly vanished in a silent implosion of fire.   
  
Great, now he was only facing two huge dogs. Harry grimly drew his wand and made ready to defend himself. He knew there was no way of escape on foot, and flying would make it easier for the wizard to attack if he reappeared. For all he knew, the wizard was only invisible and waiting for Harry to show himself in an escape attempt.   
  
With an short bark, that sounded more like the echo of a bark than a bark itself, one of the dogs started towards the bushes he was hiding behind. Harry aimed carefully and fired the full body bind spell at it. The spell hit the dog in the head, but rather than collapsing, the dog reverted back to mist, which then completely drifted away in the wind, leaving only a slight burnt mark on the ground. The second dog, however, didn't waste any time and bounded towards Harry with incredible speed.   
  
Harry aimed his wand at the approaching dog, eyes focus on the huge mouth with incredibly sharp teeth, that was approaching. He felt as if time slowed down, but he couldn't raise his wand fast enough, couldn't utter the spell fast enough. He knew he was going to die.   
  
Out of nowhere, a huge mastiff barrelled into the side of the dog, pushing it to the ground and rolling over. The two dogs began to fight, with the mastiff ripping huge, vaporous holes in the dog. Finally, as the mastiff's teeth touched the dog's throat, it vanished.   
  
Harry leapt up and ran towards the mastiff, which promptly transformed into the gaunt, untidy figure of Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather.   
  
"Sirius! Are you ok? Thanks for saving me, I tried and I got the first one and …" Harry babbled at Sirius as he reached him and leapt into a hug with his Godfather.   
  
"Harry, calm down. I'm ok. What the hell is going on around here". Harry could feel Sirius holding him tight.   
  
Finally Harry relaxed his grip on Sirius and Sirius let go of Harry, and they stepped back.   
  
"Harry, what's going on? I got an urgent owl from Dumbledore saying you had disappeared. He's got dozens of people looking all over the countryside and the nearby towns for you. We all suspected that Voldemort had gotten you."   
  
Harry looked at Sirius, noting the worry lines that seemed to be etched into his face. With Harry disappearing like he had after being attacked, of course everyone would assume that Voldemort had gotten him.   
  
"I'm fine, Sirius. Someone attacked me at the Dursley's but I escaped on my broomstick. Once I landed, I decided I'd try and get to Diagon alley, but I guess I didn't think about how far it was, or where I was really going. I'm buggered if I know where I am now."   
  
"You're only about 2 miles from Little Whinging".   
  
Harry grimaced. "And I've been walking for hours. Anyway, this guy appeared out of a, fiery doorway, I guess you'd call it, and summoned those two dogs out of mist. I got one, and luckily you arrived here to get the second."   
  
Sirius frowned. "It's only luck I got here when I did. I guessed that you must have used your broomstick when I couldn't smell you on foot anywhere around the Dursley's, luckily I picked the right direction and found your trail."   
  
Harry grinned. "Thanks for coming and finding me. I've missed you."   
  
"No time for that Harry, we need to get you out of here. Take this portkey," Sirius handed Harry an old tin can. "I've got to round up the people looking for you, and we've got to get back to what we've been doing. I'm sorry I haven't written to you, but I promise I'll write to you as soon as I can. Maybe I can see you. Anyway, the word to activate the portkey is "crunchy"".   
Harry smiled. "Thanks Sirius. I've missed you, but I understand." Picking up his broom, Harry activated the portkey.   
  
A hook seemed to penetrate his navel, and with a sharp tug, he was elsewhere.   
  
=================================================================================  
  
As Harry disappeared, Sirius sighed. He had never heard of the kind of magic that Harry had described, but he knew that Harry had told the truth. The fight with that ghostly dog proved that. He felt cold all over when he thought of that dog and what it could have done to Harry.   
  
Sirius looked around, noting the two blackened spots where the dogs had disappeared from and shivered. It seemed that Voldemort had gotten some powerful new spells. It worried him as they hadn't heard anything about the new magic, or the attack on Harry. Could Voldemort have already discovered who their operatives were? Should their spies be pulled out of their Death Eater disguises now, before anyone was captured or killed?   
  
So many unanswered questions, and in this war, unanswered questions could get a lot of people killed.   
  
Sirius transformed back into his animagus form, a huge mastiff dog and bounded down the road.   
  
  



	3. Chapter 2 The Burrow

**Harry Potter and the Luminus Draconis**  
(aka Harry Potter and the Light of Dragons)  
  
**Chapter 3 – The Burrow   
**   
Harry stumbled slightly, as he landed after the Portkey journey. He stood in a wide, green field, with small yellow flowers in bloom. In the distance, there were rolling hills and trees, but only grass surrounded Harry where he stood.   
  
"Hello Harry," said a voice behind Harry.   
  
Harry spun around, reaching for his wand, until he saw the man standing in front of him.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry smiled, knowing that whatever happened, for now he was safe with this powerful wizard.   
  
Albus Dumbledore smiled, a sparkle in his eye. "You've lead everyone a merry chase these last few hours, Harry. Sirius was almost frantic in his need to find you."   
  
"Well, he did find me, and just in time too," Harry quickly related the story of the mysterious package, the attack in his bedroom, his escape and the very strange incident on the road.   
  
As Harry spoke about the strange doorway of fire, Professor Dumbledore looked almost … surprised.   
  
"Well, an action packed few hours. I suppose we had better arrange some alternative accommodation for you until the end of the holidays. No doubt you would like to spend some time with Mr Weasley and his family?"   
  
"YES PLEASE!" Harry grinned, knowing that even though he'd been through a lot in the past twelve hours, he'd at least get to spend the rest of the holidays away from the Dursleys.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore, what happened with the attack? Are Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia … are they alright?" Harry felt a shiver of fear run through him. Even though he hated them, he couldn't wish them dead or anything to have happened to them, just because he had lived with them. "And what about Hermione? Did you get my message? I think …." Harry felt his eyes start to water, and quickly stopped talking, concentrating with all his might on not showing anything except for a calm face to this man he respected so much.   
  
Professor Dumbledore's face sagged, and he looked infinitely older than he had a moment ago. The sparkle in his eyes gone, he looked Harry in the eye. "Harry, your Uncle, Aunt and cousin are all missing. I'm sorry, but we don't know where they've gone. We got there as quickly as we could, but all we found was an empty house and our primary goal was to find you."   
  
Harry felt his stomach fall. Again, more people he knew hurt or missing because of him. How far would the dark forces go to capture him, to hurt him? Would this be the fate of anyone who had dealings with Harry Potter? To simply disappear in the middle of the night?   
  
"And Hermione?" Harry steeled himself for more bad news, though he knew that if anything had happened to her, his entire world would be gone. One of his best friends and just knowing him could get her killed.   
  
"We don't know any details except what you've told me, Harry. I've sent someone to Bulgeria to find out more details, but I wouldn't think anything of it until we know for certain. I would suspect that it was just a ploy to distract you so that your attacker could finish whatever mission they had as quickly as possible. As it was, it certainly distracted you and kept you from thinking clearly enough to capture whoever it was."   
  
Harry felt his heart plummet. Who knew if Hermione was ok? He couldn't think about the alternatives, but he hoped she was ok, and Professor Dumbledore was right.   
  
"But Sir, how could they get to her? Or get to me? What about the protections that were around the Dursley's? And what was that doorway of fire? I've never seen anything like that?" Questions seemed to flow out of Harry, anything to stop him thinking about what could have happened to Hermione and his relatives.   
  
"Harry, Harry, slow down. I don't know the answers to all of those questions. In fact, I don't know the answers to any of those questions. I've never heard of anything like that spell either, and that is a worrying thing." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in frustration, or was it anger. "We will find out in time, I know, but for now, I should get you to the Weasley's and arrange for more protection to be set up around their house. We need to keep you safe until we find out what all of this is about."   
  
Harry could feel the excitement about spending the rest of the holidays with the Weasley's still in him, except he still felt guilty about the Dursley's, and very, very worried about Hermione. What had happened to Hermione?   
  
"On to happier things, though, Harry. I know your birthday is coming up, and I have a special present for you this year," Professor Dumbledore smiled as he withdrew a small package from somewhere deep within his robes.   
  
Harry took the neatly wrapped present, and started to untie the bow.   
  
Before Harry could finish unwrapping the present, Dumbledores voice interrupted him.   
  
"Now Harry, I want to speak to you about your parents." Harry's hands froze, holding the bow and present, as he looked up at Dumbledore.   
  
"My .. parents?"   
  
"Harry, I knew your parents very well. I was headmaster of Hogwarts when they were students, and I worked with them as head Boy and Girl, and after they had finished school as well. I knew them well, and I feel that it is partly my fault for everything that has happened to them and you. I approved of the switch from Sirius to Peter, and I wasn't fast enough, or influential enough, to save Sirius from Azkaban."   
  
Harry looked at the present in his hands, covered in wrapping paper with moving stars and moons set against a dark blue backdrop.   
  
"Has anyone told you what your parents did, once they left school?"   
  
Harry shook his head, stunned that finally someone was willing to talk about his parents. Whenever Harry had asked Sirius, he was unable to answer. Sirius was still very conflicted by his 'betrayal' of Lily and James by asking them to use Peter Pettigrew to be their Secret Keeper. Peter, who was also known as Wormtail, had been one of Voldemorts spies, and Sirius felt as if he had betrayed Lily and James.   
  
"Harry, your parents worked in the Law Enforcement department of the Ministry of Magic. Even I am not sure what they worked on, or what they did, but I know that this is partly the reason why Voldemort targeted them. Nonetheless, I have quite a few memories of both James and Lily and I will be placing some of them in my pensieve for you to view when school goes back. For now, I hope you like my present."   
  
Harry came back to reality and opened the present he had been holding. Inside were two books.   
  
"Harry, James and Lily asked me to give these to you if anything happened to them. They wanted you to have something that told you a little bit about what kind of people they were."   
  
The first book that Harry held was a large notebook made of leather, with a gold embossed "Fifth Year Potions" written in the middle of the cover. Harry carefully opened it and in the front cover was the owners' name. Lily Evans. As Harry closed the notebook, he noticed the faint scorch marks over the lower half of the book.   
  
The second book was bound with a faintly shimmery material, and had little stick figure pictures of Quidditch formations and players all over the front. Upon opening it, Harry read his fathers name in the cover. James Potter. Flicking through the book, Harry saw a number of formations and Quidditch strategies, all moving and showing how to be performed for maximum proficiency. It was James Potters Quidditch playbook.   
  
Harry looked up at Professor Dumbledore. "Thank you, Sir. This is the best present …"   
  
Professor Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye brighter than Harry had ever seen it.   
  
"Harry, I'm glad you like them. I know your parents would be proud of you, and I know they wanted you to have these. But it's time for you to go now, where we know it's safe."   
  
Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, and with a small 'pop', they were gone. =================================================================================   
  
High above the meadow, a large red dragon drifted on thermal currents. It continued to fix its glowing red eyes firmly on the spot where the two 'hu-mans' had been. Intelligence, and the ability for speech, was only something that had recently come to this dragon, but it knew what it had been commanded to do.   
  
With a loud roar of anger, it flapped off towards the west. =================================================================================   
  
  
In the blink of an eye, Harry went from seeing a beautiful meadow surrounding him, to being outside the Weasley's house. It was, in Harry's words, the most amazing place he had been. It was a pure wizarding house and was full of all types of devices and magic that muggles could never imagine.   
  
From where Harry stood, outside, near the front door, he could see gnomes running around the front garden and a hag-like face peering through the attic's sole window. A variety of strange noises seemed to be coming from one of the upstairs windows (along with a very smelly purple cloud of smoke) and a hammer was beating nails into shingles far up on the roof.   
  
The Burrow. It was one of the only places, barring Hogwarts, that Harry felt like he was at home in.   
  
Professor Dumbledore strode up to the front door and tapped it with his wand. Inside, a musical tune started playing. Outside, a picture of a face with red hair appeared, mouthing the words, "We'll be right there," which were hastily scribbled next to it.   
  
From inside a loud commotion arose, sounding like a number of feet all rushing towards the door at full speed. The door was pulled open, with Mrs Weasley standing there. Behind her, the rest of the Weasley clan tried to look past her.   
  
"Welcome Professor Dumbledore. And Harry. I'm so glad you're safe."   
  
Mrs Weasley swept Harry into her arms, hugging him tightly. Harry could feel his face getting red as she hugged him tighter and longer than usual. Mrs Weasley always seemed to be able to embarrass Harry, but he didn't really mind it at all. It was nice to have a mother figure be concerned for his safety.   
  
"Come on, Mum, let Harry come in instead of standing on the front step," Harry heard Ron's voice call out to his mother from somewhere near the front door.   
  
Mrs Weasley let go of Harry, and ushered him and Professor Dumbledore into the house. As Harry started towards the door, the people standing inside fell back, allowing him to go in.   
  
Inside, Harry finally got to say hello to the rest of the Weasley clan.   
  
"Hi Harry!" Ron said brightly. Behind him, the twins, Fred and George, gave Harry wide smiles, while their younger sister, Ginny, smiled shyly.   
  
"Ron, can you take Harry up and get him settled in your room? I'm sure he's tired after such a busy start to the day," Mrs Weasley said as she showed Professor Dumbledore into the kitchen. "Professor Dumbledore and I just need to discuss a few things before he leaves."   
  
"Come on, Harry. You know the way." Ron ran up the stairs, leaving Harry to follow him up.   
=================================================================================   
  
In the kitchen, Molly Weasley and Albus Dumbledore sat down as a pot of tea poured itself into two cups that had magically flown to the table.   
  
"How is he, Albus? Was he hurt or injured? Arthur was very sketchy with the details." Molly hoped her face didn't show how anxious she had been when Arthur had told her that Harry had been attacked and had disappeared. Thankfully he had been found and was going to spend the rest of the holidays with the closest thing he had to a family. In many respects, she thought of Harry as her son, and had always treated him as such.   
  
"Harry is fine, Molly. He's a very strong boy and has gone through much, and will continue to go through these kind of ordeals for a good time to come, I fear."   
  
"I'm worried, Albus. How did someone get to Harry? I thought the Ministry was watching over him, and I know you had wards up as well to ensure that no-one got close to him either. What can we do if someone comes for him here?"   
  
"Molly, Alistair and I will be working on putting wards up around your house here. I'm afraid it will means Percy and Arthur will need to floo to work, as the first wards we're putting up will be the anti-apparition wards. We're going to be putting up a great number of protection spells on the house itself, so it will be able to resist a vast array of destruction spells, assuming that someone will attack the house directly. There will be a team of Auror's watching remotely, ready to dispel the wards and apparate here at the slightest sign of trouble. Finally, well, it's best to keep something in reserve." The twinkle in Dumbledores eyes could in no way be described as friendly. "Also, I believe that Charlie will be coming home soon as he is going to be heading up the search for the Dragons in England." Albus Dumbledore looked around the kitchen, his eyes giving the impression that he was examining everything in sight.   
  
Molly felt herself relax at Albus' words. Albus wasn't considered the greatest living wizard for nothing, and if he felt that Harry would be safe here, then Harry would be safe.   
  
"I will ask, Molly, that you keep a close eye on Harry and Ron. I feel that this may be a very hard year on them both, and I know that Harry, especially, will do more than is asked of him. I want to make sure the rest of his holidays are restful, so that he is prepared for what may come."   
  
Albus stood and put his teacup down. Molly realised she hadn't even noticed him pick it up.   
  
"Molly, one thing Arthur may not have mentioned. Harry's relatives have gone missing as well. While I don't think he'll take this as a devastating blow, I think it would be worthwhile keeping a close eye on his mental state as well as his physical. Let myself or Sirius know if you become worried about him," Albus said as he smiled sadly. "A lot still rests on Harry, whether he knows it or not, and I fear that Voldemort may have some new tricks up his sleeve, now that he has returned. Keep him safe, Molly. And thank you."   
  
With a small 'pop', Albus Dumbledore disappeared from the kitchen.   
=================================================================================   
  
Once Ron and Harry had gotten upstairs and gone into Ron's room, Ron had gotten some spare clothing that was a little too small for him and given it to Harry.   
  
"Harry, try these. Be better than your pyjamas to walk around in."   
  
Harry blushed as he caught the clothes that Ron tossed at him. Funnily enough he remembered Ginny's shy smile as he'd walked into the house. Had she been laughing at his pyjamas?   
  
"Thanks Ron. I'm glad I'm here, I tell you."   
  
"So what happened? Mum was very vague on the details, and I don't think Dad told her anything anyway. All I know is that you went missing and freaked out the entire Ministry of Magic." Ron shook his head as he walked over to the window. "I don't think I've ever seen Mum so worried before. She really does think of you as part of the family, Harry."   
  
Harry briefly explained to Ron what had happened, about the attack at the Dursley's, the strange man and gateway and the hounds. Finally he showed the two books that Professor Dumbledore had given to him. Whilst these books were something very special and private for Harry, being remnants of his parents, he felt the need to share this with his best friend. He had almost been killed today, and now he felt that he needed to make the most of the time he had left.   
  
"Wow, that's amazing, Harry. And this Quidditch playbook looks awesome. There's moves in here I've never seen or heard of. Your dad must have been an awesome Quidditch strategist."   
  
Harry grinned. Ron never changed. No mater what happened, his priorities remained the same, with Quidditch fimly placed at number one. Ron was excellent in a crisis, but remaining focused outside of one was not one of his strong points.   
  
Ron turned around and passed the books back to Harry. He looked strangely grim, in contrast to his tone mere moments ago.   
  
"Harry, this gateway you described. I've never heard about anything like it. And if Dumbledore is concerned, then I'm worried. Maybe we should write to Hermione and see if she knows what it is. If she doesn't, we both know she'll search through every book and library within range trying to find the answer."   
  
Harry's heart dropped. He'd forgotten to tell Ron about the package and what it could mean.   
  
"Ron, there's something else. Before I was attacked an owl dropped a package off to me. In it … " Harry could feel tears begin to form in his eyes. " … in it was a bit of Hermione's hair and a note. Ron, Voldemort has Hermione."   
  
As Harry finished, he felt a tear trickle down his face. He felt the almost overwhelming fear for Hermione threaten to engulf him, but he fought it down. He couldn't loose control, not while Ron was there.   
  
Ron, on the other hand, went completely pale, as if he had just been told his entire family had defected and joined Voldemort in his quest for domination of the magical world. His mouth opened and closed twice, as if he was trying to say something, but nothing came out. He slowly made his way to the bed and flopped onto it, his face a picture of misery.   
  
"Ron, Professor Dumbledore thinks it was just a ruse to catch me off-guard and ensure the attack was a success. I don't think he really believes that Hermione is in any danger. But he's sent someone to check."   
  
Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, Harry was aghast at the depths of pain he could see. Without realising it, Ron had inadvertently exposed his true feelings for Hermione, and Harry could see just how much the possibility of Hermione being hurt could affect Ron.   
  
"Harry. I think I need some time alone at the moment," Ron said in a wheezing, almost choked voice.   
  
Harry nodded and took his clothes to the bathroom to get changed. He felt a glimmer of emotion (was it jealousy) as he thought of Ron and his feelings for Hermione. After a few moments dwelling on these unfamiliar feelings he dismissed them out of his mind. With Hermione missing, this wasn't the time to think about anything other than her safe return.   
  
Once he had finished getting changed, Harry headed downstairs. He didn't have any idea what to do, but maybe giving Mrs Weasley a helping hand in the kitchen would be nice. It was always pleasant to help out in the kitchen in a wizarding house as all the heavy or nasty tasks in the muggle world could be easily done by magic.   
  
Upon reaching the kitchen, Harry found that it was completely spotless and no-one was in sight. The kitchen remained as wonderful as it always was, a virtual paragon of the wizarding house as opposed to the muggle kitchen. Whilst it was small and cramped, it had a homeliness that had always been missing at the Dursley's. Harry felt comfortable there.   
  
Harry looked at a small clock sitting on the counter. A shiny, silvery hand pointed to the heading "Time to Have Lunch". This was one of many times that seemed to be on the clock, including "Time to nap", "Time for breakfast" and, Harry's favourite, "Time for Quidditch". This was obviously a new addition to the house, possibly something Fred and George had bought the family with the money Harry had given them from winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament. A quick glance at the other family clock (with pictures of all the Weasley's on the hands pointing at various places on the clock), showed Ron "At Home", Ginny "At Home", Mr Weasley "At Work" and the others generally "At Home". For some reason, Fred and George's hands were pointing at a setting Harry had never seen before. "Up to Mischief". Ultimately, no-one was around so Harry decided to take a walk outside and see if he could find something to do.   
  
Outside, Harry wandered away from the house. He knew he shouldn't go far, but he just needed some time to think about what had happened and what this could all mean.   
  
After climbing a small hill near the Burrow, Harry sat down and looked out over the green rolling fields. With the sun out, it was pleasently warm, and as Harry stretched and laid back to look at the sky and clouds, he quickly dropped off to sleep.   
=================================================================================   
  
As Harry slept, he dreamt. In his dream he drifted in a white fog. The world was a distant thing. His worries, hates and cares were things of the past. As he drifted there, peaceful and quiet, he heard a voice. A soft, almost angelic voice, calling his name.   
  
"Harry. I love you, Harry," the voice said in a hesitant manner.   
  
Harry looked for the source of the voice, but he could see nothing. He felt he recognised the voice, but it was so hard to remember anything at all. As he drifted further, he heard the voice again, speaking to him softly, telling him things that slipped away as soon as he heard them.   
  
Slowly, Harry could feel himself beginning to wake up. He desperately wanted to stay with that voice in the soft white fog, but the harder he tried to stay, the further the fog, and voice, drifted away from him.   
  
"Please don't go." Harry said as he felt himself emerge into the world of wakefulness.   
=================================================================================   
  
Harry sat bolt upright as he woke. Soemthing had wakened him and he felt as if he had lost something precious. Further down the hillside, Harry saw Ginny approaching, concern on her face as if he had screamed or something when he awoke. As Ginny came closer, he tried to remember his dream. He knew he had dreamed of something, but the details slipped away from him, almost like fog in a strong wind.   
  
"Harry, are you alright? You looked like you were completely freaked out when you woke up. I was just coming to get you for dinner," Ginny said as she looked at him with her bright brown eyes.   
  
Harry stared at her, almost as if seeing her for the first time. He felt as if something had changed in him, while he was asleep, and he was seeing everything for the first time. But especially Ginny.   
=================================================================================   
  
Harry lay on his back, on a small bed in Ron's room. It was late at night, and Harry was listening to the faint snoring that came from Ron's bed. It had been a very long day and Harry was exhausted, but he couldn't fall asleep. His mind replayed the events of the day again and again. The package, the attack, the strange figure and glowing doorway, the hounds and finally getting to the Weasleys.   
  
A thousand questions flowed through his mind, each of them without an answer. Who attacked him? What were those hounds? Why try to kill him now? How did his enemies penetrate the wards and charms protecting him? Where were the Dursleys? And most important, was Hermione alright?   
  
Finally, Harry quietly levered himself out of his bed and tiptoed to the door. Slowly, he opened the door, trying to ensure that the hinges didn't creak and wake Ron. With the door open, he slowly stepped out into the hallway and closed the door.   
  
Harry quietly padded down the hallway and down the stairs, ending up in the lounge room. There, he sat down in a lounge chair and with a flick of his wand and a quietly uttered "incendio" he lit a fire in the fireplace.   
  
With the flames casting shadows around the room, Harry felt almost like he was sitting in the Gryffindor common room.   
  
Harry stared into the fire, repeatedly thinking of the days events. The flicker of flames soon had his eyes flickering closed, and Harry finally drifted off to sleep.   
=================================================================================   
  
_The dreamer drifted in a sea of white fog. Nothing was visible except for whiteness. There was no wind to stir the fog, but the dreamer knew that the winds of change were beginning to blow through the waking world. Conflicts were beginning again and darkness was beginning to shadow the world.   
  
Slowly, the whiteness faded, becoming grey. Soon, the grey turned into black and the dreamer was shrouded in darkness.   
  
A voice was heard. Softly at first, but growing louder. It was a hard, deep voice. It was familiar to the dreamer.   
  
"…so far managed to elude us, however, it is only a matter of time until we hunt the traitor down. Once we capture him, we will demonstrate to your servants the fate of those who betray you."   
  
A second voice, high pitched and cold.   
  
"I'm running out of patience, Lucius. So far he has managed to evade you for weeks, and all you have delivered is promises. See that he is caught before the next full moon, or you shall share his ultimate fate."   
  
"My lord, your will be done."   
  
"Lucius, have your informants been able to tell you what happened in the Chamber of Secrets? We know it was opened 3 years ago, but no details of what occurred has come to light. How did POTTER defeat the Basilisk? He was more formidable than expected in the graveyard, and I wish to know exactly why. No-one with the level of power to defy me should still be at school."   
  
"No, my lord. My informants have very little to report, except for .. after Potter returned from the Chamber of Secrets, I saw Dumbledore with Potter. A sword was also in the same room as them. A silver sword, covered in blood. It was very distinctive, and there was some sort of writing on the blade, though the sword was too far away for me to read it."   
  
"A sword? A silver sword, with rubies embedded in the handle?"   
  
"Yes, my lord."   
  
"The sword of Gryffindor has been drawn then. This may change things slightly. I may need to .. obtain .. Dumbled .."   
  
The voices faded and the darkness gradually faded to white again. The dreamer floated amongst the whiteness for a time, and then finally awoke.   
_ =================================================================================   
  
"Wake up, Harry."   
  
Harry slowly opened his eyes as someone continued to shake him. He was still in the lounge room, though now he had company.   
  
Sitting next to him on the arm of his chair was Ginny, in a shabby looking dressing gown, likely to have been a hand-me-down. She gave him a small smile as he slowly sat up.   
  
"What time is it, Ginny?" Harry asked groggily as he struggled to wake up completely.   
  
"It's about two in the morning, Harry. What are you doing down here?"   
  
Harry yawned. "Couldn't sleep. Came down here to think about things, but I guess watching the fire sent me off to sleep."   
  
"You only came down stairs about 20 minutes ago, I heard you leave Ron's room, and when you didn't come back up, I thought I'd see if you were alright," Ginny smiled at Harry warmly, though inside she was frightened for him. She knew some of the terrible things that he had seen. He had fought against the forces of Voldemort for years now, and she wasn't surprised that he couldn't sleep.   
  
Harry stared at the fireplace, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He was very conscious of the closeness of Ginny, perched on the arm of his chair. He had absolutely no idea what to talk to her about, his mind had gone completely blank.   
  
Ginny finally broke the silence.   
  
"Harry, I'm going back up to bed and I think you should do the same. If Fred and George find you asleep down here in the morning, then you're asking to be experimented on for the sake of their joke shop."   
  
Harry gave a laugh and promised he was going to go back to bed.   
  
Ginny spoke softly to him as she stood up. "Harry, there's something else I wanted you to know. If you ever need a friend, someone to talk to, then I'm here for you. Good night, Harry Potter," Ginny said as she quickly leaned in and gave Harry a small peck on the cheek. Blushing red, she quickly hurried upstairs, leaving a confused teenage boy to adjust his glasses and head back upstairs to his bed, a small smile starting to form on his lips.   
  



End file.
